


Sweater Weather

by ItsGatsbyNotGatz



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff, Happy Ending, Light Angst, M/M, Reincarnation, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-12 14:02:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29510808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsGatsbyNotGatz/pseuds/ItsGatsbyNotGatz
Summary: There's only four seasons, so it should be easy to pick a favorite. Every single one of them is filled up with Tsukishima Kei, though, so it makes it a little harder to choose. That's okay though, because Tadashi has a lifetime to do it.
Relationships: Tsukishima Kei/Yamaguchi Tadashi
Comments: 5
Kudos: 37
Collections: Tsukiyama Brainrot





	Sweater Weather

**Author's Note:**

> tsukiyama brain rot lets fuckin go

Summertime was arguably Tadashi’s favorite season. In the summer, Kei would take them both to the beach so often they might as well live there. Summer meant sitting too close in beach chairs. It meant burying each other in rough sand and soft kisses. It meant splashing each other with cold seawater and then going home to wash all that salt out. Summer meant driving home as the sun set, windows down and music up. Summer meant holding hands on boardwalks and sharing ice cream. 

Of course, Kei only took them to the beach so much because all that sun coaxed out Tadashi's freckles. He didn’t mind much at all, mostly because that meant Kei would spend that night kissing each one. It meant Kei would trace patterns like constellations on his skin with a damp finger in the bath. 

With all that sun came the occasional sunburn, and sunburns meant no blankets and only underwear in bed. Sunburnt skin was far too hot for blankets, much too warm for clothes. Their skin was never too warm for each other. Tadashi kinda liked sunburns, even if they stung. Sunburns meant that they could rub cool aloe into each other’s skin, hands cold and a little bit sticky, trading soft kisses on their bed. 

And summer meant laying in the back garden on a blanket, looking up at the stars and pretending they were kids again. Pretending they were high schoolers, holding hands in their families yards. They would pretend that their biggest worry was test scores or how well their volleyball team would play in their next match. That their worst fear was the convenience store being out of their favorite snacks. They hadn’t worried about those things in a long time, and if they ever did again, it wouldn’t be their own test scores or their own team. 

Summertime meant fireworks and festivals and things that Kei had always loved, even if he didn’t want to admit it when they were kids. Festivals were about the two of them buying candied apples and playing silly games for silly prizes, holding hands the whole time because they were too old to worry about who minded anymore. And festivals were for the children weaving around them, laughing and calling out to their parents, and teenagers asking those same parents for just a little more money for a game, please Dad just one more, and those parents not really minding because they remember being sixteen and in love for the first time. And the fireworks were still for the kids and the lovers, and even after all this time even the oldest among the crowd still feels like a teenager again, kissing for the first time under bright colors in the sky. It’s not awkward anymore, no noses bumping, no teeth clicking, no glasses smushing into faces. But it’s comfortable. It’s like coming home, and the feeling is still the same as the first time, hearts bursting with the flowers unfolding overhead. 

And after festivals always comes tucking tired children into bed, showering to get all the sweat off, kissing again to get one last taste of candied apples before brushing teeth for bed. There’s a fan on, there’s still a few fireworks going on in the distance, and Kei is the first one asleep. His eyelashes are still so long after all this time, small strands of gold on his cheeks that Tadashi will always adore. Their faces aren’t as soft anymore. Age leaves no one untouched, but the lines that Kei insists are from frowning and worrying smooth themselves out when he sleeps. They’re smile lines, anyone who steps foot in their house would know that, but Tadashi won’t mention it. He’ll leave Kei’s pride alone, and instead places a soft kiss on his cheek before settling down to sleep.

Autumn is a close contender for Tadashi’s favorite, though. Autumn turns everything beautiful. Autumn brings beautiful oranges and reds and golds that make Kei look absolutely gorgeous. Kei insists that Tadashi is just as beautiful against fading leaves and cool sunsets. That’s why their wedding was in the autumn. It’s why their bedroom is painted a gentle yellow. 

Autumn brings travel, but it’s always back home. It used to be back home to their parents, but they’ve really only got their old friends now. Kei’s are gone naturally, and Tadashi’s wanted nothing to do with him after the wedding. That’s okay, because families are rarely only blood anyway. Their old team is family enough, with their own spouses, and all the friends they’d all made as they’d grown. And maybe the size of their reunions change as jobs change, but that’s okay, too. Kei’s brother and his kids are always a joy to be around, even if they were in college already (had time really moved so fast?) and so was Coach Ukai, even if he’d turned into the old man he swore he’d never be. It always warmed Tadashi’s heart to see him still wearing his wedding ring, even if Takeda’s funeral had been years ago. 

Of course, not every autumn can be joy filled, and sometimes you’re coming home to bury someone who seemed timeless. Sometimes it’s your old teacher, or your coach. A brother, only once. A teammate twice, because a broken heart is deadlier than you’d think. None of those times are easy, but after the third childhood friend, you find a sort of peace in knowing that as time passes, you only grow closer to seeing them again, even if it isn’t in this life. And that’s how Tadashi comforts Kei when his brother passes. It’s how Kei comforts Tadashi when Yachi goes. After all, autumn isn’t only for weddings.

Sometimes of course, it’s for baby showers. Kei cries more than Tadashi at the announcement of their first granddaughter. He’s the first to hold her after the parents. For someone who had been so cold in high school, Tadashi has to admit that Kei loves his family. He absolutely spoils that little girl rotten, beaming with pride when their son tells them that her first word was ‘dinosaur’. It’s been years, but Tadashi falls in love with Kei all over again every time he picks up one of their grandkids. 

Autumn always tugs at Tadashi’s heart. Autumn is for falling in love with Kei over and over and over and over again. For falling in love with him on their evening walks. For falling in love with him while they buy tea at the grocery store. For falling in love with him as they cheer Karasuno on at a game. For falling in love with him while they cook dinner. For falling in love with him as he coaches their granddaughter into taking her first steps. For falling in love with him as they dance together in their living room, kitchen, garden. For falling in love with him when he gets whipped cream on his nose trying a new dessert recipe. 

Autumn reminds him that Kei is always with him. That Kei loves him enough that they decided to spend their lives together, even if they were probably a little too young at the time. Autumn was for dressing their first baby up in Kei’s old jersey and for watching her hit a volleyball for the first time. Autumn was when Tadashi taught his kids his jump-float serve. Autumn was when he and Kei let their kids beat them in a three on two match in the backyard. Autumn is when they decide to walk with their kids on the way to school just to give each other a big kiss and hear the kids complain at them. 

Autumn is almost Tadashi’s favorite season, because even through all the heartbreak, all the loss, he still has Kei, and he falls in love with him a little more every day. How could he not? He’s pretty sure that Kei is the love of his life, and he will be for every life after this one.

Winter used to be Tadashi’s favorite. It was his favorite in high school and college, and right after he married Kei. It was his favorite because winter had Christmas, and Valentine’s day, and the cold gave him an excuse to snuggle up closer to Kei in bed and- well. 

The cold alone meant that they could snuggle up on the couch as teenagers, holding hands under a blanket and no one would even think twice. The cold meant that Tadashi could “accidentally” forget his sweater at home, just to borrow Kei’s. The cold meant that Kei could get away with wearing two sweaters, because he wanted to give one to Tadashi. The cold means they can link their arms together and stand too close on the walk home. The cold meant chasing each other through the woods until their chests ached and they collapsed in the snow together, kissing cold lips until they were warm again.

Christmas in high school meant exchanging gifts and going on silly little dates, wearing matching mittens and sharing hot chocolate. Christmas in high school meant Kei holding mistletoe over Tadashi’s head for a kiss that he would have gotten anyway. Christmas in high school meant Tadashi stuffing a Santa hat onto Kei’s head for a silly selfie that would end up being his phone’s lockscreen until at least New Year’s, but that would stay in his favorites forever.

Christmas in college meant, well, what every other holiday in college meant. Christmas in college meant special dates to hotels trying a little too hard for the holidays, if only to have sex somewhere other than their own apartment. Christmas meant that maybe Tadashi would let Kei switch things up, which he would do any other time of year if Kei only had the guts to actually ask. Oh well. The sheets were always soft, and the baths always had nice soaps, so it was okay if sometimes it was a little expensive.

Christmas was, of course, followed by New Year’s, which meant a big party, which meant getting tipsy at the very least. Tadashi always liked the feeling of being just a little bit drunk. It made his head always a little fuzzy and his chest warm, and Kei’s glasses always got misplaced, but that was okay because they were practically inseparable anyway. Something about the way Kei kissed him at midnight always made his heart soar. It was always strong, always a hand on Tadashi’s waist, always a hand cupped on Kei’s cheek. It always felt like a promise, like neither of them was going anywhere anytime soon. Which is probably why Kei proposed on New Year’s. It was the only year he didn’t drink before midnight. He told Tadashi three years later that he hadn’t wanted to mess up, and that he was so nervous he couldn’t drink or eat anything at all that day. So stupid, but ultimately it was such a ridiculously sweet thing to be nervous about that Tadashi couldn’t even tease him about it (he could, and did, just ten years after the fact). 

And of course, Valentine’s Day, which meant Kei going to ridiculous lengths. Large bouquets that took up the entire dinner table, more chocolates than Tadashi could hope to possibly eat, a teddy bear so big that Tadashi can lay down and nap on it. All silly gifts, all too big or wonderfully simple. Bags full of prizes out of gacha machines that Kei had been collecting for him for the past year. Little plastic keychains and figures, small stuffed animals. Every repeat prize he got just became a matching set for him and Kei. Every repeat after that became a small act of kindness for a random child or teenager on the street. There does become a point where Kei has to stop buying them, partially because they have all the older ones and all the newer ones aren’t really their thing. Tadashi occasionally mentions liking one of the new kinds, if for no other reason than the way Kei’s face lights up when he can buy one.

Spring might actually be the strongest contender for Tadashi’s favorite season. The rebirth of everything was breathtaking, and something about the backdrop of cherry blossoms and soft grass always made Kei look ethereal. This might be a biased opinion, because Tadashi thinks Kei would look beautiful in a beige room eating saltines, but still. Plus, Kei loved spring. Kei brought home fresh flowers every weekend. A different color, too, if not a different flower entirely. Sometimes it’s one of Tadashi’s favorite things that Kei does. It’s a quiet gift; Kei doesn’t make a show of handing over fresh flowers. He changes them quietly, planting the old ones if he can or just using them to fertilize their garden. Sometimes the flowers are ones Kei carefully grew and trimmed. It’s so stupidly sweet and romantic and silly, and Tadashi loves him for it.

He loves him, he loves him, he loves him. He’ll love Kei forever, so maybe that’s why he loves spring so much. Spring feels like forever to him, and Kei feels like forever, so spring makes him feel like he’s utterly surrounded by Kei. 

Springtime has rain, too, not just flowers, and Tadashi is the first to admit his marriage isn’t perfect. No, there’s no cheating. There’s never a time Tadashi regrets it. Kei never raises a hand to him. But that’s not to say they don’t fight. Of course they do. They’ve been together for years. They have bad days. They’ve been sick, or fired, or hurt, and sometimes it comes out on each other. It almost never lasts. The fight is always over by the end of the night, and Tadashi is always falling asleep at Kei’s side. Always except for once. The worst fight they’d ever had, so bad that Kei had gone back to his mother’s for almost a week. It nearly killed Tadashi. He’d thought Kei was going to leave him forever. But he’d come back, and they’d both cried, and now Tadashi doesn’t even remember what they were so worked up about in the first place. 

Spring meant they could have picnics in parks with grass so green it was almost unreal. Spring held clear skies with nights just cold enough for the both of them to share a blanket while they stargazed. Once they had children, the warmth of their kids snuggled up between them was enough to keep them warm on cool spring nights. Kei had taught their kids every constellation he knew, and then learned new ones to teach them those, too. He’d tried teaching them to Tadashi, once upon a time, but they’d still been young, and Tadashi only remembered the softness in Kei’s eyes as he pointed out the stars. Besides, he’d always much preferred it when Kei kissed little constellations across his cheeks and shoulders, so knowing those were probably good enough anyway. And when it came time for Kei to teach the stars to their grandchildren, Tadashi had heard them enough to remember them by now, bouncing their granddaughter on his knee. They were too old to lay down in the grass, but their rocking chairs were still close enough to keep each other warm, matching sweater sleeves slipping down over joined hands. 

Their third grandson was born in spring. Tadashi had cried like it was the first. It was their first grandson that Kei couldn’t see. The first one that Tadashi had taught the stars to, because Kei’s eyes had gone the autumn before. That didn’t mean that Kei couldn’t tell the stories of the stars, though, and for that Tadashi was grateful. 

Kei had lost his sight, but he still brought new flowers home every weekend for Tadashi. He still managed to look at Tadashi like he had at their wedding. Tadashi always wonders if he can somehow see something the rest of them can’t. In the spring, he often finds Kei in the garden, face tilted up to the sky, blind eyes closed, and Tadashi thinks he looks young again.

Three years after Kei loses his sight, summer quickly falls from Tadashi’s favor. It’s summer when he’s in the hospital with Kei for the first time. He spends summer in a cold, sterile room, far from a shoreline, far from sun and festivals and sticky kisses from their grandkids. Tadashi doesn’t know the last time he had freckles. He stopped caring once Kei couldn’t see them. Even with his eyes closed, Kei traces where they used to be. 

Kei is still beautiful to Tadashi. He’s beautiful even as he fades away in this white bed, reeking of disinfectant, because Tadashi loves him. How could he be anything other than beautiful?

Tadashi hates summer the day Kei asks him who he is.

While autumn had taken so much from him, Tadashi had never hated it. Not when his teammates died. Not when they buried Kei’s family. But this? This makes Tadashi want to scream at the universe for ever inventing the season.

Because autumn is when he finds himself standing alone in front of Kei’s grave. 

He spends so much time there. He can’t stand being alone in their house. In their bed. But he can’t move, either. They’d built a life there, a family there. He can’t abandon it. Tadashi knows that the cold marble in front of him isn’t his husband. He doesn’t ever pass up time with his children or their children. But his grandchildren start to graduate highschool, and it tears Tadashi apart that Kei will never get to see it.

Autumn becomes Tadashi’s least favorite season.

Winter has never been so cold, either. Their house is particularly empty. The flowers on the dining room table have been wilting there since Kei’s garden died. It’s pathetic, but Tadashi can’t bring himself to throw them out. He’d tried so hard to maintain Kei’s garden, but he’s too old now. Too sick. 

His daughter begs him to go to a hospital. His son offers to move home since his children are away at college these days. Tadashi refuses. This isn’t a sickness a doctor can heal. He won’t let his son see him this way. He’s dying of heartbreak. It’s been years, and yet none of the pain has faded. He assumes it’s because he’d only ever loved Kei. Because he only loves Kei. He didn’t stop when he’d died. When he promised to love him forever, he’d meant it. Tadashi imagines he’ll love him in the next life, too. He can’t imagine his life with anyone other than Kei. He loved him, loves him, will always love him.

Tadashi Tsukishima is buried next to his husband before the winter ends.

It’s springtime when Tadashi Yamaguchi meets Tsukishima Kei. He’s twelve years old, and he doesn’t have many friends, but something about Tsukishima draws him in. He isn’t sure what it is. He can’t describe it, other than a tugging in his chest. It pulls him closer, closer to Tsukishima, and for some reason, it seems to pull Tsukishima closer to him. They’re only twelve, but Yamaguchi wonders if he could even begin to call this love. The way Tsukki bumps their shoulders in the hallway makes him think he doesn’t need to rush to figure it out. He can’t put a finger on it, but he thinks he might have his whole life to feel things about Tsukishima Kei.

Spring might be Yamaguchi’s favorite season. But who knows? He hasn’t lived through all of them yet.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> im not sure if it's clear or not but um. anyway yeah they got like. reincarnated together or whatever. anyway I love them


End file.
